


Humain Après Tout

by Farang



Category: Daft Punk
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombies, M/M, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Farang/pseuds/Farang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombie Apocalypse AU. Human!Thomas and Guy-man hit the ground running once an outbreak was confirmed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Day the World Ended

**October 19 th, 9:08 AM. **Thomas sat at a counter sleepily munching on some buttered toast. He switched on the TV to watch the morning news. The woman on the screen had a grim look on her face, suffering from an obvious lack of sleep. Her uncombed hair was lazily swept back in a ponytail, and her day-old makeup was smudged around her eyes. He grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

“We have just received word from our reporters in relation to the Paris riots. Earlier we had released information that it may be politically or racially fueled, however it has been confirmed that they are fueled by a kind of mass hysteria…” She stopped, taking a moment to compose herself. “The hysteria has been caused by some sort of virus, which-“

Thomas found himself snickering at the thought of the whole thing. It was almost as though it were the beginnings of a zombie apocalypse.

“We will now go over to Benjamin Bouchard at Bichat Claude-Bernard hospital, who has some information on the virus.”

The screen cut to a man standing in the commons area of a hospital, overrun with injured citizens. Thomas swallowed hard and reached for the remote to turn it up even more. He had heard that things were serious, but not _this_ serious.

The reporter went on to go into more detail about the current situation. There had been rioting, that was true, however it wasn’t confined to only one area. There had been other smaller uprisings throughout the city that hadn’t received as much attention in the media. In some cases, there hadn’t even been an uprising, just a random attack on the street.

“There was an older woman, maybe in her 40’s,” said a young, bearded man. He lacked color in his face and was breathing heavily, despite the fact that he was resting. “She was lying in the middle of the road, so I went to go check on her – I thought maybe she had been hit by a car or something. But when I got closer, I saw that she was really beat up and pale. She grabbed my foot and bit my ankle, so I shook her off and called a friend to come pick me up and bring me here.”

Thomas grabbed his phone and called his friend. “Hey, Guy-man.”

“It’s nine in the morning on a Sunday, Thomas, this better be good,” said he.

“Yes, yes, I know. Turn on the news. Hurry.” There was a long pause until he could hear Guy-man’s TV in the background. They watched the newscast in complete silence for nearly eight minutes.

“Damn,” said Guy-man. “It kind of sounds like…” He trailed off, cracking up a bit. “A zombie outbreak.”

“Exactly! That’s what I was thinking! But… it seems a bit weird, don’t you think? I mean, zombies, really…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” They fell silent again, both of them engrossed in the newscast. “Hey,” Guy-man broke the silence. “If this really is… you know… some sort of outbreak… do you want to run away together?”

“What?” Thomas laughed.

“I mean, like, do you want to try to survive together?”

“Guy-man, I-”

“Just to be prepared.”

Thomas smiled. “Sure.” It was an empty promise, since he didn’t think it would come to that. He made the promise all the same, just to give his friend some comfort.

The scene on the TV cut back to the female news anchor. “I’m getting word that we’ve received a tape of an infected victim,” she looked off-screen. “We will roll the tapes now, but I’m warned that viewer discretion is advised.”

A low quality video – probably taken with a cellphone – began playing. There was an emaciated man lying on the ground, writhing and twitching in an almost inhuman way. As the cameraman moved closer, he grew more and more panicked, the camera shaking about erratically. The man on the ground let out a disconcerting hiss as he reached out toward the feet of the cameraman, who promptly let out a small cry and jumped back. The infected man reacted to the noise buy crawling forward at an alarming rate. The cameraman yelled and turned away, obviously trying to run. The video stopped.

“Shit,” Guy-man mumbled. Thomas made a noise in acknowledgement. “Can I come over?”

“Of course,” Thomas said. In all truth, he was growing a little scared, and having his best friend with him would make him feel a lot better. He couldn’t say that, though. Guy-man would probably make fun of him. “I’ll see you in 20 minutes, right?”

“Yeah. Let’s hope I don’t get eaten by zombies,” Guy-man laughed.

**10:26 AM.** Thomas was startled by the sudden ring of his doorbell. He stood up and went to the door, secretly praying that it wasn’t a police officer coming to announce that Guy-man had been attacked and eaten on his way there. It was a ridiculous thing to worry about, but it still crossed his mind. He had a habit of always assuming the worst.

To his relief, Guy-man was standing there, hair and all. He let out a loud sigh, and opened the door.

“What’s with the tense look, _mon ami_?”

“You took nearly an hour, Guy-man!”

“Hey, I brought beer for you and this is how you greet me? Ungrateful.”

“You should have told me you would take longer, is all…”

“What, so you’re afraid of zombies now?” Guy-man scoffed.

“They never said it was zombies! It’s still dangerous… I worry about you.”

“That’s so gay, dude,” he said. He removed his sunglasses and ran a hand through his hair. They stared at each other, then started laughing. There wasn’t any special reason behind their laughter. They laughed just for the sake of laughing.

Thomas helped him unpack the bags of food that he had brought. There were some assorted fruits, some cheese, a case of beer, and a baguette.

“That’s just like you,” Thomas said.

“It was an impulse,” Guy-man replied with a shrug. “I thought you’d get a laugh out of it.”

Each of them opened a can of beer and sat at the counter watching the TV. There wasn’t anything new, just occasional briefings regarding the symptoms of the virus. Fever, paleness, hysteria, restlessness, and homicidal urges.

“What is this, 28 Days Later?” Thomas said with a tired chuckle. Guy-man agreed and took a drink.

“The streets were empty today,” he said.

“Really? It must be getting bad…”

“Guess so. I haven’t seen any rioting yet, though.”

Another silence. They had a habit of doing this – falling into a silence in the middle of a perfectly good conversation. It was almost as though they could communicate telepathically. After a few minutes of drinking and watching the news, Guy-man stood up.

“Do you want something to eat?”

“Sure,” Thomas said as he also stood up. They cut up some fruit and cheese to go along with their beer.

“Woah,” Guy-man mumbled, looking out the window. He walked over, knife and apple still in hand. “Do you see that?”

“What?” Thomas asked as he joined him by the window. “Oh.”

On the ground below was a man with a limp, clutching his arm as he slowly made his way down the street. Blood ran down his arm and covered his hand, and there was a tear in his jeans near his ankle. He didn’t appear to be infected, but he was definitely wounded.

“God,” Thomas said quietly.

The man seemed frightened, looking around for signs of help.

“What should we do?”

“Call the police, I guess… I don’t want to risk getting infected.”

“Who says he’s infected? Maybe he’s just hurt. Why don’t we go help him?”

“Thomas, don’t be stupid. I’m going to call the police.”

Guy-man grabbed his phone from the countertop and began dialing 112. As the phone rang, they stood there watching the man.

“Hello,” said a female voice on the other line.

The man fell to his knees, then he toppled over and didn’t move.

“I, uh… There’s a wounded man in front of my friend’s house right now. He was limping, but now he fell down and he isn’t moving.”

“Do you think he’s infected?”

“Maybe – it’s hard to tell.”

“Can I have your friend’s address please?”

He gave her Thomas’ address.

“Alright, well it’s nothing to be alarmed about. Just stay inside until somebody arrives. We’ll have someone on the way.”

“Thank you.”

They continued watching for a few more minutes to make sure that the man didn’t get up and walk away. Thomas looked over to Guy-man, who started cutting the apple over the bowl that Thomas was holding. He leaned against the wall and kept an eye on the man below.

“You know,” Thomas said quietly, as if the potentially infected man would be able to hear him if he spoke too loud. “I’m actually starting to get kind of scared.”

Guy-man nodded.

“Do you think it’ll get really bad?”

He shrugged.

“If it does, you’ll stick with me, right?”

A nod.

Then silence. A police car and an ambulance pulled up outside, and an officer got out with his gun drawn. Nobody got out of the ambulance.

“Why would he have his gun drawn?” Thomas mumbled. On the TV in the background, the female news anchor went over what to do if approached by an infected person. They both moved back to the counter to get a better look at the TV.

“Do not come into contact with them, as they could harm you,” she said. “The virus is spread through body fluids. That means that if you have an open wound and the infected person’s saliva or blood comes in contact with the wound, you are at risk of an infection. If you are bitten, you are at risk of infection. If the infected person’s blood somehow gets in your mouth, you are at risk of infection. If you find yourself in any of these situations, call an ambulance immediately.

“By no means should you attempt to engage in hand-to-hand combat with them. If you have a gun or some sort of ranged weapon, try to aim for the legs and feet to prevent them from getting any closer. After that, call 112 and request an ambulance and a police officer. Get away from the area and wait until the authorities arrive.

“If you find yourself approached by an infected person, but you don’t have a ranged weapon, get out of the area immediately and call authorities.” She looked down at her papers, then drew in a deep breath. “This is the only information we have for you at the moment. Stay tuned for more updates. Here’s the weather.”

The screen switched to the weather forecast, accompanied by calming music. Then there was a gunshot.

Thomas and Guy-man both went back to the window to see what had happened. The man who had been lying on the ground appeared to have moved slightly before he was shot in the head. His arms were still extended toward the police officer, as though he had been reaching for him before he was killed. Two paramedics exited the ambulance with a stretcher and promptly loaded him into the back of the ambulance before driving off. The police officer also got into his car and drove away.

“Just like that…?”

“Apparently…”

“This is weird, Guy-man. Really weird.”

“I know,” he replied. “No point in worrying about it, though. Let’s eat.”

 

 **11:45 AM.** After eating, they remained at the counter. It had been nearly three hours since it had been revealed that there was a virus outbreak. As far as they knew, it was confined to the small area where the riots had broke out.

“We have news from the United States Embassy,” said the woman on the TV. She looked down at her papers, and then back up. Her face had gone from tired to slightly panicked. “The United States has confirmed outbreaks in Los Angeles and New York. Doctors say that no one who has come in contact with the virus has survived, and no vaccine has worked. They will continue to try to develop a treatment but until then, it is advised to stay indoors…

“The French government advises that we also stay indoors. If you must leave your homes, stay away from crowded areas, as the virus may be airborne as well. This is not a state of emergency – I repeat, this is not a state of emergency. However, it is to be treated in all seriousness.” She shuffled her papers around and tapped them against the desk. “For now we’ll go back to Benjamin Bouchard at Bichat Claude-Bernard hospital.”

Once again, the screen cut to the same man from earlier that morning. This time he was standing in an autopsy room with two other doctors. He looked more worn out than he did before, and his voice broke whenever he tried to speak.

“Thank you, Emeline. I’m here with Doctor Jean Berg. He has been examining the victims of this virus since the outbreak.” They moved to the side to reveal a squirming patient strapped to a table.

“As you can see here, this man has been infected by the virus,” said the doctor. “He has bloodshot eyes, a greyish hue, and is very restless. This is the average appearance of someone who has been infected. However…” He trailed off, seemingly fighting to find the right words. “Six hours ago, this man was dead.”

Thomas and Guy-man turned to each other, then looked back at the TV.

“I mean… I don’t want to say the Z word, but… we’re basically dealing with zombies.”

There was a moment of awkward staring between the doctor and the reporter before the screen went back to the news anchor.

“Well,” she said with an apathetic laugh. “You heard it here first. The Walking Dead is becoming reality.” There were some laughs heard from the studio as the camera panned out. A quiet “I can’t believe it” could be heard as the microphones were cut off and the program switched to the automated weather broadcast.


	2. Survival Kits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter was a bit slow, but it starts to pick up from here out, I promise! However... this chapter is relatively short. Sorry! The next one will be longer!
> 
> Big ol' thanks to my friend Emily for giving me ideas! You better keep giving them to me otherwise this story will just turn into "and then there was a zombie. aaaand they ran and stuff. and then the zombie was gone. wow."
> 
> EDIT: I can't believe I forgot to say something about the window breaking. What, like the zombies just teleported inside? How dumb am I? Well anyway, I added it in now.

**12:02 PM.** The two men turned to each other and shared a moment of dumbfounded silence.

“Hey,” Thomas began. “That man earlier… Do you think…?”

Guy-man simply nodded. Thomas didn’t need to finish his sentence for him to understand what he was talking about. He knew. They both knew. When the cop shot that man, they were preventing him from reanimating. Of course the authorities had been informed of the reanimation problem before the general public.

Thomas began shaking, overwhelmed by the sudden realization of what was happening. “I- I-“ He stuttered. “I didn’t think it was possible.”

“Nobody did,” said Guy-man. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “I’m gonna go smoke.”

 

He took a long drag on his cigarette, then blew a steady stream of smoke into the air. As he watched it rise, he noticed a darker plume of smoke in the distance. He waited for the air around him to clear so he could see more clearly. There was definitely smoke in the distance, and it was very close.

Meanwhile, Thomas sat with his head in his hands as he listened to the newscast.

“Just a few minutes ago, we had said that the government officials advised that all citizens stay indoors until the rioting is resolved, although we weren’t in a state of emergency,” began the same female news anchor. She had been working for over 16 hours, and it didn’t seem that she would be given relief any time soon. “However, we’ve received word that the rioting in Paris has not only gotten worse, but there have also been outbreaks in other cities around the country. Spain, Portugal, Germany, and the United Kingdom have also confirmed outbreaks.

“Due to the nature of the current situation, travel outside of France is not permitted, unless you have legal documents that allow you to leave. A curfew of 7 PM has been issued across the nation. If anyone is seen outside between 7 PM and 8 AM, they will be fined 72 euros. This is a state of emergency. Again, disregard our earlier statement – this _is_ a state of emergency.”

A map of Paris showing where rioting had started was displayed on the screen. Temple, Élysée, Vaugirard… Popincourt! Thomas stood up and ran to the window, sliding it open and calling down to his friend. “Guy-man,” he yelled in a slight panic. “Come inside, there’s-“

“Thomas,” Guy-man interrupted. He raised his hand to point over the roof of a building. “Look over there.”

He looked in the direction that his friend had pointed. His muscles tensed up and his heart skipped a beat as his eyes fell upon the pillar of smoke in the distance. “Come inside, now!”

Guy-man threw his cigarette down and stomped on it before running inside. His steps grew closer in only a matter of seconds, and soon enough he was standing next to Thomas.

“This is a map of where the rioting is,” Thomas said. “There’s one nearby. That’s probably the source of that smoke… Do you think we should stay here? Maybe your place would be better.”

“No, it’s too dangerous to go out right now. We should just wait until it’s resolved. I mean, I’m sure the authorities will have it under control soon, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” Thomas said reluctantly. “I take it you won’t be going home, then?”

“Probably not. Even if the rioting is stopped later this evening, it still isn’t safe to go out at night.”

Thomas nodded and stood with his hands on his hips. After a few moments of deep breathing to calm himself, he spoke up. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

“I know.”

“This is something that happens in movies or- or nightmares!”

“Yeah.”

He huffed at Guy-man’s nonchalance. “How can you be so laid-back in this situation?”

Guy-man looked up at him in surprise. It wasn’t like him to get angry so easily. Then again, he was visibly stressed. “Well… Freaking out isn’t going to do anything.”

“So you don’t care?”

“What? No! That’s not what…“ He sighed. “That’s not it. I just don’t want to make things worse for you.”

Thomas’ mouth curled up at the corners. “What?”

“You’re already stressed out enough! I don’t want to make it even worse by panicking with you.”

“Well, look who has feelings!” Thomas laughed.

“Hey, fuck off.”

 

 **9:36 PM.** Three news updates and a bag of chips later, the two of them were reclined on the couch with beer in hand. Thomas flipped through the channels on one TV while the other was left on the news channel. About an hour previously, the female news anchor from before had been replaced with a fresh-looking middle aged man. The tension in the room had faded to the background while they were immersed in talk of The Beach Boys and modern pop music.

“Look, I’m telling you, today’s music lacks soul! It’s not good anymore!” Thomas waved his beer can around to leave a greater impact on his friend.

“I never said it was! Stop acting like I’m disagreeing with you!” Guy-man laughed as he playfully pushed Thomas away with his foot. They both took a swig from their drinks. “All I’m saying is, not everyone has the same music taste as you.”

Thomas sighed and stared at the TV for a while. He wasn’t watching it, just staring while he thought. “Hey,” he said, suddenly sitting up in his spot. “We should make survival kits.”

“Survival kits? I think you’re letting this get to you too much.”

“Okay, okay. Let’s make go bags. You never know when we’ll have to get up and make a run for it.”

“True, true,” Guy-man agreed as he also sat forward. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Thomas nodded.

They stood up and decided who would be in charge of what. Thomas went to the kitchen to gather up food, and Guy-man went downstairs to collect clothes and other material things. After a few minutes, Guy-man came up the stairs with a sly smile. He held something behind his back.

“Do you want to take this?” He said between laughs as he revealed Thomas’ helmet. Thomas also started laughing, then walked over to take the helmet into his own hands. “It would be hard letting go, wouldn’t it?”

“Totally.”

“It just wouldn’t be logical to take it, though.”

“Yeah. Besides, mine is at my place. It wouldn’t be fair if you got to keep yours.” He took the helmet back and began descending the stairs to put it back in its place.

“Don’t ransack my room!” Thomas yelled after him.

There was a quiet yelp from the level below, followed by a thud and various noises of panic. “Thomas!” Guy-man cried.

He left the food scattered about on the counter as he hurried downstairs to find Guy-man frantically searching for a weapon. Outside was a small crowd of men, maybe five or six, lazily shaking at the gate in front of the door. Their movements were slow and clumsy, almost as though they were sleepwalking.

“Oh God,” Thomas said while also running about. “Oh _God_ ,” he cried, slightly louder. After running to a closet and pulling out a broom, he returned to find the men climbing over the gate and approaching the window. One of them started beating their head against the glass in an effort to break it.

“How strong are your windows?”

“Not strong enough to withstand them all,” Thomas replied. “Go upstairs and finish packing, I’ll try to hold them off.”

“But Thomas, I-“

“Hurry!”

Guy-man flew up the stairs in a flurry of wild arm movements. There was a loud crash from below as the window shattered, along with a shout of surprise from Thomas. Guy-man took as much food as he could and shoved it into a backpack. When he managed to zip it shut, he threw it over his shoulder and ran downstairs and into Thomas’ room, where he grabbed two jackets – one leather and one cotton, and hung them over his arm, along with two baseball caps. He came into the entryway and asked Thomas what to do next.

“J-just,” Thomas huffed between stabs at an infected man. “Put them out back.”

Guy-man nodded and ran outside, tossing the clothes and backpack to the ground. “Now what?”

“There’s a nail gun and a baseball bat in my garage. Grab a duffle bag and put them in there.” He swung the broomstick his attacker and knocked him to the ground. Two more men moved toward him, blood and saliva dripping from their mouths. “Don’t forget to grab all of the nails!”

“Got it,” Guy-man yelled. He burst through the door to the garage and picked up a duffle bag from the floor. He swept the boxes of nails into the bag with one swift movement of his arm, then threw the nail gun in on top. After adding the bat in and zipping the bag shut, something caught his eye. A flashlight! Of course! He picked it up, along with a few batteries that were lying around, and ran back to Thomas, who was backed against a wall with nothing but a broomstick between him and a mob of hungry zombies. How odd this whole thing was!

Thomas made room for Guy-man to slip behind him, holding his arm out to protect him. They ran through the back door, sliding the broom through the handles to keep the men from following them. Without saying anything, they both donned a jacket and a hat, slinging the bags over their shoulder. Then, they stood in the dark yard for a few moments, taking one last look at the house. Everything they knew – their music, their livelihood, their comfortable existence – it was all gone. All they had to do was turn their backs and walk away.

 

And so they walked.


	3. Paris Is Burning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to get this uploaded. I've been going through some stuff lately, but it's been cleared up. Due to the difficulty of the past week, this chapter is going to be another short one. You can expect longer chapters soon, though! I'm on spring break, so I have all the time in the world for the next week or so.
> 
> As usual, thanks to my friend Emily for motivating me by constantly asking, "n,,,,ne w chAPter???///???//??"

**10:09 PM.** After hopping the fence and walking for a few minutes in total silence, Thomas came to a halt. Guy-man turned around to look at him, pointing the flashlight in his direction so he could make out what he was doing. To his surprise, Thomas had removed his glasses and was wiping at his eyes.

               “Are you crying?” Guy-man asked, borderline sneering. Thomas didn’t respond. With a quiet sigh, Guy-man turned off the flashlight. “I know, I’m struggling too,” he said, barely audible above the leaves rustling in the autumn night’s wind.

               “E-e-everything...” Thomas sniffed, choking on words as tears began rolling down his cheeks. “What will we do, Guy-man? What will we do?”

               Seeing his friend in such a state ripped at his heart, threatening to tear apart his very being and send the pool of emotions pouring out into the open for the world to see. At least, that’s how it felt. With careful steps, he raised his arms slightly and moved forward, trying to decide whether to embrace him or give him a firm squeeze of the shoulders. He opted for the shoulders.

               Thomas stopped moving at the sudden contact that they made. Warm hands squeezed his shoulders, pushing him about in the slightest ways before sliding down to his elbows. Although he couldn’t see much, he could feel the warmth from Guy-man’s body, only inches away from his own. Without thinking, he reached down to his waist and pulled him close.

               “Oh- uh, Thomas-“ Guy-man grunted as air was forced from him. His complaints were cut short by Thomas’ muffled crying. They stood there like that for a long time – Guy-man’s head coming to rest comfortably on Thomas' shoulder, Thomas’ nose pushed into the crook of Guy-man’s neck. Eventually, Thomas pulled away and drew in a deep, sharp breath to clear his head. After they calmed down and let go of each other, they began walking again.

 

               It was best to stick to the darker alleys, so that they wouldn’t be seen out past curfew. Even as they walked, Guy-man couldn’t deny that he still felt the sweet warmth of Thomas’ breath on his neck, or the way their arms wrapped around each other almost perfectly. He also couldn’t deny that when they hugged, he couldn’t stop a few tears from wetting his own cheeks. At least Thomas didn’t see it.

               Covered in darkness and smoke among the silence of the night, it was almost as though they could hear each other’s heartbeat. That night, the stars and the moon had been blown out – as though the cosmic bodies mourned for mankind. Salus and Jetsun Dolma and the myriad other gods or goddesses of salvation couldn’t save them from what was happening.

               The farther they walked, the thicker the smoke on the ground became. Flames shot up from behind the building in front of them, blowing the glowing embers in their direction. As they came to the end of an alley, they had the choice to turn in the other direction, or to cut across the street to get a better look at the scene.

               “What should we do?” Thomas asked. His voice was still unstable from crying earlier.

               “There might be someone who can help us over there…”

               They nodded and made sure no one was around before running across the street. Once they were safely in the shadows, they stopped to catch their breath. The two of them were not prepared for something like this in the slightest. Thomas was generally out of shape, and Guy-man… well, he was a smoker.

               From where they were standing, they could hear what was going on at the scene of the riot. Firemen fought to get the fire under control while cops held back the civilians. There were around 100 civilians against a wall of police in riot gear – clawing and yelling, almost like a herd of wild animals.

               “Do you think they’re infected?” Thomas asked.

               “No doubt about it,” Guy-man replied grimly.

               Out of the blue, one of the policemen yelled commands at the rest of the squad. There was a sudden explosion of gunfire and tear gas. The two men turned and started to run, but soon realized that their only option was to run into the street, where they could easily be spotted. Guy-man took Thomas by the wrist and pulled him around the corner. They stayed close to the side of the buildings, passing a few alleys, then crossing the street and retreating back into the darkness.

               “I can’t believe we weren’t seen,” Guy-man said between gasps for air. Thomas made a relieved noise and nodded in agreement. After a few seconds, Guy-man realized that he was still holding on to Thomas’ wrist. “We should find a place to sleep,” he said.

               “Why not just stay here?” Thomas asked, pointing at an area between two short flights of stairs where they’d be hidden from view.

               “It’s kind of a small space… But I don’t want to walk around anymore.” Guy-man said before awkwardly situating himself in the nook. Thomas stood there, staring at him. “Well? Aren’t you going to sit down?”

               “There’s hardly any space left!” Thomas whined. Guy-man picked up the duffle bag and put it in his lap, leaving only a foot or so of room. Thomas sighed, then slid down into the corner beside his friend, twisting around to get their bodies to fit together in the crevice.

               They sat there, pressed against each other with nothing but their bags to keep them warm. After a long silence, Guy-man sighed and raised his head to the sky. Thomas stared at him, waiting for him to say something. He never did.

               “Hey,” Thomas, prodded, desperate for some interaction. Guy-man looked over at him, their faces so close that they could feel each other’s breath.

               “Don’t tell me you’re scared again,” Guy-man groaned. Of course, Thomas couldn’t reply to that. Both of them were scared, for sure, but he was more vocal about it. Guy-man preferred to keep it all inside – showing weakness, for him, would be a huge blow to his self-esteem. His eyes fell shut in a tired blink, thick eyelashes fanning out over delicate cheekbones.

               If he wanted to, Thomas could easily lean in and kiss him. On the mouth, on the cheek – anywhere. He was only inches away. And, oh _god_ , he wanted to.

               “What are you staring at?”

               Thomas blinked before replying. “N-nothing.” His words came with a nervous stammer. He turned away and stared straight ahead. This whole thing was quite peculiar. Here they were, peacefully reclined against the wall with their heads supporting each other as they dozed off. Around them, the city was descending into chaos – buildings burning and families losing loved ones as the virus spread.

               A momentary thought questioning their safety in the alley crossed his mind, but he didn’t care. Neither of them did. If tonight was their last night on earth, at least they would have spent it together. Just as they always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so rushed orz I'm sorry


	4. The Chainsaw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Guy-man finds a chainsaw. How convenient!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOWOWOWOW OKAY it's been like a month since the last update I'm so sorry wow
> 
> I'll try to keep this updated monthly.

**October 20 th, 6:54 AM. **The two men were jolted awake by the deafening roar of four jets passing by overhead – most likely the airforce. After a moment of uncomfortable squirming, Guy-man let out a disgusted groan.

               “Dude- gross! You drooled all over my hair!”

               “S-sorry,” Thomas said while trying his best to help him comb the wetness out of his hair.

               “Disgusting,” Guy-man mumbled. They separated their belongings and stood up. “I’m surprised we made it through the night.”

               “Yeah,” Thomas agreed. “Let’s get going.”

 

               It was a crisp mid-October morning, complete with a perfectly clear sky. People were out walking around, although not for leisure. The smell of burnt wood still lingered in the air from the previous night’s riot, along with garbage and various body fluids – blood, saliva, vomit – spread across the ground. Some shops along the street played music, but others were playing a radio broadcast of the news.

               “Do you hear that?” Thomas asked. They walked over to the entrance of a secondhand shop, where they could hear a voice coming from a radio that was suspended above the doorway. A mother and her daughter stood at the counter, handing cash to the cashier as they listened to the voice of a tired woman.

               “The contamination rate of the virus hasn’t dropped, and Paris’ hospitals are slowly reaching maximum capacity,” she said. “It is advised to stay indoors, if possible. Safety precautions are still enforced.”

               Thomas suddenly turned to Guy-man and grabbed his shoulder. “Can we go back to see what happened to the house after we left? Maybe it was cleared out by the police, so it’ll be safe to go back!” He apparently wasn’t all that worried about the current state of the city.

               Guy-man was slightly pained by the optimism and hope that he could hear in his friend’s voice. Although he doubted that it would be safe, he _was_ curious about what had happened after they left. “Sure,” he said with a nod. “It doesn’t seem like there’s any new updates anyway.”

               They turned away from the shop and started retracing their steps through the alleys. Luckily, they hadn’t ventured far, so it was easy to find their way back. Upon arriving back at Thomas’ place, they were greeted by the scene of broken windows and blood. Any sign of someone having lived there was gone, destroyed by those who had wandered inside last night.

               Thomas bowed his head. “I guess it got looted, huh?”

               “Yeah, there’s no way some zombies could have done this.”

               There was a long pause as they stared up at the two-story home. “There’s no going back now, Guy-man. We’re stuck on the streets for sure.”

               “Guess so…” He mumbled in reply. He wanted to do something to comfort him, but what could he possibly do? Resting his hand on his shoulder would be too cliché. Maybe a pat on the back? No, that’s something you do to kids. Many times before, Thomas had flung his long arm around him for absolutely no reason at all, and neither of them thought anything of it. Why was this any different? In fact, just the night before they had hugged!

               Hoping to condole him, Guy-man reached for Thomas’ hand, nimble fingers gracing over his wrist and sliding down to loosely wrap around his index finger. The taller man looked down at him, tears brimming in his eyes yet again. It was one of those moments where you meet eyes with someone who is special to you, and the world seems to stop. Nothing matters as long as you have them. The moment was ruined, however, when Thomas brought forth a curious question.

               “Are you on drugs?”

               “What?” Guy-man said, pulling his hand up to his face to feign a fake cough.

               “You just held my hand.”

               “Well, I mean, I… I just wanted to make you feel better. Besides, we hugged last night, so…”

               “Oh, I’m not angry or anything, it’s just n-not like you to do something like that.” Thomas shrugged.

               They remained there in an awkward silence, both wanting to say something. Thomas had nothing to say, but Guy-man – oh, he had so much to say. The longer they waited, the more the words built up on the tip of his tongue. _It hurts to see you like this, Thomas. You’re my best friend. You’re all I have now. God knows what happened to my family. I don’t want to believe that they’re dead, but we both know that they most likely are. Yours is probably dead too. I’m scared. I’m so scared. Please hold me like I held you last night._

               But he couldn’t let those words leave his mouth. There was no way in hell he would ever say something like that. Maybe if they were facing certain death, he would. Right now, though? Not a chance. He bit his lip and inhaled deeply before speaking again. “No point in standing around.”

               “Yeah,” Thomas said as he put his sunglasses back on. “Where will we go now?”

               “I have no idea. Let’s keep moving, though.”

 

               **8:48 AM.** After a little over an hour of walking, they came to a house, seemingly empty. On the edge of the lawn was a pile of junk, mostly tattered furniture. They slowed to examine it with the hopes that they would find something of use. Just before they decided to move on, something caught Guy-man’s eye. A shiny blade – the blade of a chainsaw, in fact! He walked over and picked it up, resting it on his shoulder.

               “What do you think, Thomas?”

               His friend turned around and let out a hearty laugh. “I think it fits you! It reminds me of that one photo shoot we did.”

               “Yeah,” he said with a weak chuckle.

               Although Guy-man was trying to laugh, Thomas couldn’t see past his solemn expression. He walked forward to get a better look at the short brunette. From far away, he almost looked menacing. Upon getting closer, though, his short and chubby stature became more apparent, and he didn’t seem so scary anymore.

               Speaking of which, he never noticed how Guy-man’s overall look had changed lately. While age had cursed Thomas with thinning hair and lack of energy, Guy-man had been graced with curlier hair and a – dare he say it – somewhat voluptuous figure. The melancholic young man that he had grown up with seemingly disappeared, having been replaced by a slightly more outgoing middle-aged man. Oh, how he had missed that smile. That precious, crooked smile.

               Guy-man, on the other hand, thought the exact opposite. He resented his thick, unmanageable hair and generous amount of body fat. What he would give to have Thomas’ tall, lean appearance and gentle voice! If only he were more personable or more outgoing, then maybe people would like him just as much as Thomas! These feelings weren’t to be mistaken for jealousy or hatred toward the taller fellow. No, it wasn’t that at all. He looked up to him with envy – a loving form of envy. When they were younger, he wanted to be just like him. Secretly, he still hopes for an extremely late growth spurt.

               “What are you staring at?” Thomas asked after he got close enough to have a conversation at a normal volume.

               “ _You_ were staring at _me_.” Guy-man said, jabbing his finger into Thomas’ chest.

               “I didn’t realize it,” he replied. He rubbed the area where Guy-man had stabbed him.

               “Of course you didn’t.” Guy-man rolled his eyes. “Do you think this still works?” He asked, turning the chainsaw over in his hands to find the ignition.

               They fumbled around with the saw until they found its rope. Thomas gave it a few sharp pulls with no prevail.

               “Weak,” Guy-man scoffed as he took it from him. With a single swift arm movement, he jerked the rope over his shoulder. The roar of the engine echoed through the silent street, startling a flock of birds nearby. The engine sputtered, then stopped. “Guess there wasn’t much fuel left… We should go see if we can find some more.”

               “Yeah,” Thomas agreed. “There’s a hardware store nearby. They should have some, right?”

               “Probably.” Guy-man nodded and swung the blade down by his side. He wasn’t used to holding large things like that – definitely not a chainsaw, anyway. He stood awkwardly and his gait lost some of its gracefulness because of the uneven distribution of weight, but he didn’t care. At least he could look like a badass.

               They walked like that for what felt like forever – Thomas smiling down at Guy-man as he hobbled along. He didn’t want to admit it, but he quite liked the way Guy-man looked at that moment. His hair blew back in the wind, accentuating his square jaw. His shirt was pressed against his torso, bringing out all of the little rolls and curves that gave shape to his body. Of course, he wouldn’t say anything about it. He’d just keep walking, occasionally glancing down at him and giving him a faint smile.

 

               **9:33 AM.** Disappointment. Nothing ever went right, of course. Why would it?

               “Damn it,” Guy-man cursed.

               They had walked all that way, only to find that not only the hardware store, but the entire street had been trashed.

               “Should we just ditch the chainsaw, then? I mean, there’s no point in lugging it around if it doesn’t work. It’d just waste energy.” Guy-man said.

               “Mmm…” Thomas thought for a while. “No, you should keep it. Just to be safe. Who knows? Maybe we’ll find some fuel.”

               Guy-man sighed and removed his sunglasses. “Let’s look inside one of the shops.”

               Thomas went in first, carefully stepping over the broken window frame. “Careful,” he said, reaching out to take Guy-man’s hand. “There’s a lot of stuff on the floor.”

               Guy-man reluctantly intertwined his fingers with Thomas’ as he stepped over the rubble. He could have sworn that Thomas squeezed his hand before pulling away, but he passed it off as nothing. After regaining his composure, he examined the interior of the store. The lights had been broken, aside from one in the far corner that flickered on and off. With the water dripping from the ceiling and the eerie silence, it was very much like something from a horror movie.

               Up front near the register there were some displays that originally held candy and other snacks, but they were completely barren now. The shelves were almost empty too, aside from unusable things like small segments of rope or broken tools. Thomas crouched down behind the register, pushing boxes around on the floor.

               “They usually have emergency supplies under here,” he said.

               “Don’t you think the cashier would have taken it?”

               “Not if the store was broken into at night.” Guy-man didn’t reply. Suddenly, Thomas let out an exclamatory gasp. “I told you!” He stood up with a shotgun and a can of gas in hand. “Just what we needed.”

               “Why would they have a can of gas under there?”

               “Probably for a car. I doubt they had a chainsaw lying around,” he laughed.

               “Is the gun loaded?”

               “Looks like it,” Thomas said while examining the gun. “Bring the saw over here.”

               Guy-man lifted the heavy tool onto the counter and waited around while Thomas carefully poured the fuel into its tank – his hands were much more steady than guy-man’s, so it was better for him to pour it in, otherwise Guy-man would have done it. After it was full, they made their way back into the deserted street and started it up. Thomas smiled as the sound of the engine echoed through the streets yet again. Guy-man cut the engine and relaxed a little, leaning back to look up at Thomas.

               “Right, well, we should be- “

               He was cut off by a sudden shriek from behind him. The two turned around to see five women running at them. One was missing entire clumps of hair, another had blood covering the entire lower half of her face and most of her neck.

               “Holy shit,” Guy-man mumbled. He turned and started pushing Thomas in the other direction. “Run! _Run_!”

               As the women drew closer, it became easier to hear their groans and hisses. They were moving so quickly that they would lose their footing and fall to the ground with a loud spatter as saliva and blood fell from their mouths. Their bloodied hands clawed at the ground until they returned to an upright position, eyes locked on the two men as if they were prey. And by God, they _were_ prey. These weren’t humans anymore – they were animals.

               Thomas made the mistake of leading them into an alley with no way out. Within seconds the infected women were only feet away, ready to sink their teeth into them and leave them in the alley to bleed out and become just another faceless pair of zombies.

               “The chainsaw, Guy-man! Use the chainsaw!”

               Guy-man started up the chainsaw and lunged forward, driving the blade into the abdomen of one of the women. He kept his mouth clamped shut as blood covered his face with crimson polka dots. Thomas frantically unzipped the duffle bag that was slung behind Guy-man’s back and took out the baseball bat. A cold hand grasped a fistful of his hair and pulled hard, causing him to lose his balance and stumble into Guy-man.

               “Oh, God!” Thomas yelled.

               Guy-man pushed him back and withdrew the saw from the torso of the woman in front of him. He used his momentum to lift the heavy saw above his head, then brought it down on the arm that was attacking Thomas. He couldn’t tell where it was coming from among the tangled mess of limbs, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to free Thomas from its grasp.

               What happened after that was a blur – not that either of them wanted to remember it. There was a wild flurry of arm movements and disgusting guttural noises, hardly as graceful as it was in the movies. Between Guy-man throwing himself about and Thomas blindly swinging his bat around, there was too much for them to keep track of. Limbs dropped to the ground and blood splashed against the walls. Bones cracked and tendons ripped as their bodies were torn apart.

               After it was all done and through, they took a few moments to catch their breath and let the weight of their actions set in. Thomas was the first to break the silence.

               “Are we… we aren’t murderers, are we?”

               Guy-man shook his head. “No… They were already dead.” He looked down at his clothes. His grey T-shirt had turned a muddy red color, and it clung to his body in the most uncomfortable way. Thomas was also mostly soaked with blood. He bent down to pick something up.

               “My hat got knocked off,” he said, shaking the hat around before putting it back on his head. His hands shook about, whipping the blood from his face. There he stood – unblinking, unmoving.

               Guy-man walked toward him, stiffly placing his hand on Thomas’ shoulder. “It’s going to be okay.” His voice wavered a bit. “It’s going to be alright.”

 

               That was the last thing Thomas remembered before he fell to the ground.

 

_Everything is going to be alright…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The formatting gets so jacked up when I put this into the text editor on here ugh I'm sorry
> 
> You'll just have to deal lmaooo


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